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“Thinking what?” she asks.
“That crashing into you that night was the best thing to ever happen to me,” I say, and she chuckles, wincing mildly as she reaches for her bruised ribs.
“Oww, don’t make me laugh,” she says.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, kissing her on the forehead.
“My poor car,” she pouts, creasing her brow.
“Yeah,” I agree, smiling down at her.
“Is it bad?” she asks.
The image of her car, smashed and broken, sobers me, and I nod. “Yeah, baby, it’s pretty bad. Sander had it towed back to the impound lot.” I tell her.
She looks at me then, the question in her eyes, and I launch into detailing everything that’s taken place in the days since I last saw her.
I told her about my dad not being my dad, and the argument that transpired that night.
“I’m so sorry about everything with your dad. I wish I could have been there with you. I feel shitty for having left,” she admits, taking my hand in hers again and holding it tightly to her side.
“It’s okay, babe. It kind of happened out of nowhere.”
“I know, but still,” she says.
“Honestly, it’s been a crazy couple of days, and I haven’t really thought about it,” I lie, but only because I don’t want to dive into those emotions again right now.
I go on to tell her about the bad feeling I’d had all the next morning and receiving the call from Milo. About Sander and I and the things we discovered, and she just sat there and listened, making the appropriate expressions as I told her the stories.
When I finally got to today, she was staring at me wide eyed.
“And that’s about it,” I say, smiling tiredly.
The stress of the week is finally catching up with me and I feel like I could sleep for two days straight. But I won’t. I don’t want to miss a single moment with this girl.
She stares at me like she didn’t quite catch what I said.
“What?” I ask.
“You told Sander about Mateo?” she says, every word slow and deliberate.
“Yeah,” I say, rolling my shoulders back and standing my ground. I figured she’d be upset about this, but it’s for her own good.
“Are you serious? Did you not hear a word a said the other night?” she hisses low enough that her mom won’t hear her in the hallway.
“You mean the other night when you said all that shit you wished you could take back?” I reply, matching her attitude.
Keaton squeezes her eyes shut, and the muscles in her jaw tick. I notice that the heart-rate monitor starts to beep just a touch faster than before.
“Bodhi… I can’t believe you… you told Sander? Of all people?” her wide eyes look at me like I must be crazy.
“You mean your best friend of all people? Yes,” I respond, defending my actions.
“He’s a fucking cop,” she whisper-yells.
“I know. That’s why I told him.”
“And what about me? What happens to me now that he knows?” she asks, frantically searching my eyes.
